


It's Just Us

by nectarimperial



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nectarimperial/pseuds/nectarimperial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of AschLuke drabbles written for ignite-terror.</p><p>*Rating subject to change</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. #1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiritcrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritcrest/gifts).



> aaaa so this is just a drabble dump story! all stories will have ratings/prompts/any relevant warnings at the top if necessary c:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: canon divergence

He meets Asch in Belkend. It surprises him, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just grips the edge of the medical examination room door so tightly his knuckles start to turn white. Just as Luke’s about to speak, Asch cuts him off.   
  
“What did the doctor say?”  
  
“My blood fonons are low, but—” Luke’s voice fades into a whisper and he looks down at the ground. He knows that Asch can tell that he’s lying. He knows Asch can hear his thoughts,  _‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,’_ reeling over and over in the back of his mind. He knows that he can’t hide from him. From himself.  
  
“Don’t lie to me,” Asch growls, slamming a fist against the wall beside him. “Tell me what the doctor said.”

“I—the fonons in my cells are separating rapidly,” Luke looks down at the floor. He doesn’t—no, he can’t meet Asch’s gaze. He’d stopped Asch from giving his life but he isn’t a hero. He can’t even face his own mortality. Not at the Tower of Rem, when he’d looked straight through his own arm, and not now, standing in front of his original, words barely escaping his lips.

Asch doesn’t reply and shifts on the balls of his feet, resting one hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip.  
  
Finally, Luke breaks the lapse in conversation, eyes still fixed on the ground, “I don’t want to die.”  
  
Closing the distance between them, Asch wraps his arms around Luke’s shoulders, and Luke doesn’t even notice he’s shaking until he’s crying, ‘ _I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die’_ into Asch’s chest. His fingers curl around the thick material of Asch’s tabard and his long hair brushes against Luke’s cheek, warm and wet with his tears.

“I don’t, either,” Asch says at last, kissing the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you! you can also find me on tumblr at nectar-imperial c;


	2. #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "come home with me."

“Come home with me,” Luke says without thinking, words escaping his lips before he has a chance to hold them back, holding one hand outstretched to Asch, standing a few feet away from him. He doesn’t know why he said it, but it’s too late to dwell on the thought.

Asch grimaces and turns away, focusing his bright green eyes on the cobblestone beneath his feet and sneers, “I already told you—the right to House Fabre is no longer mine. You stole everything from me. I don’t want it back.”  
  
Shaking his head, Luke drops his arm at his side and takes a step closer to Asch, “I—I don’t mean,” Luke pauses and catches his breath, his mouth moving faster than his mind can think, and stumbles over each word. Pushing a piece of hair from his face, he continues, “For me. Come home for me.”  
  
It catches Asch off-guard. He can see the surprise shifting across his face, severe expression dropping as Asch looks up, red hair falling over his eyes as he catches Luke’s gaze. “And why would I do that, replica?” He asks in a low tone.

Luke’s mind is spinning in a thousand different directions and he can’t think of a single cohesive thing to say, so he gives in to instinct and does the only thing on the forefront of his mind. He kisses Asch. He crashes their lips and bodies together and holds Asch’s face in his hands, running his thumb along the curve of his cheeks.  
  
And Asch doesn’t stop him. Asch doesn’t stop him, only wraps his arms around Luke’s shoulders, fingers finding their way to the back of Luke’s head, keeping him firmly in place, biting at his lips, tongue, anything he can.  
  
Finally, Asch pulls away, “Compelling argument.”


	3. #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "how long has it been?"

Asch’s hands are wrapped in Luke’s hair the moment he slams the door to the bedroom behind him, crashing their mouths together, biting and sucking at his lower lip. He dips his tongue past his lips, hungry and insistent, and it makes Luke’s knees feel weak as he moans into his mouth.  
  
Panting and breathless, Asch breaks the kiss, hands sliding down Luke’s torso, unbuttoning the clasps on his white coat and shoving it off his shoulders. “How long has it been?” He asks, yanking Luke’s black undershirt over his head, throwing it on the ground as he shoves him backwards onto the bed, quickly working to shed his own clothing in the process.  
  
“I don’t know,” Luke breathes, tugging Asch by one of the buckles around his waist, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as Asch falls forward on top of him, long red hair fanning like a curtain around his face. He looks up into Asch’s eyes, bright and green and not quite like his—not exactly. There’s something swirling behind Asch’s irises that’s unfamiliar, foreign.  
  
“What is it?” Asch asks, running his fingers along Luke’s cheek.

“It’s just—it’s been too long,” he says, words escaping into the darkness of the room in a small gasp of air, lost in the tension rolling like thunder between their bodies. Asch snorts and gives that sort of half-smirk Luke’s determined as closest he would ever get to a smile, leaning over and biting the skin on Luke’s neck, chuckling when Luke groans beneath him.  
  
It hurts. It hurts but it feels amazing, and even as the pain shoots through his veins, it doesn’t bother Luke because he knows Asch’s actions don’t carry any malice. They don’t carry any hatred. They’re deliberate and controlled, bearing the weight of his emotions, and Luke keeps his grip tight around Asch’s shoulders as his teeth dig into his flesh. Violent and gentle, the dichotomy of his actions like the duality that lingered between them—replica and original. The same and different all in the same breath.  
  
Pulling back, Asch studies his face for a moment before replying, “Yeah, yeah it has.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you! you can also find me on tumblr at nectar-imperial c;


End file.
